Shoot
by Kaylalicious
Summary: A shooting at Lindsay's school brings the CSIs together, but tears Catherine apart. Rated T.
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary: **__A school shooting tests the CSIs…especially Catherine._

_**Author's Note: **__Pretty much AU…but hey, it's my story, right? All of the original cast is present…no one is dead; no one is in Costa Rica._

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing. All characters belong to their respective owners._

_**Spoilers: **__None that I know of._

_**Reviews are greatly appreciated.**_

* * *

_Tuesday, November 20, 2007_

_8:37 a.m._

_Willows Residence_

Shivering, Catherine pulled her comforter up farther in an attempt to stave off the crisp fall temperatures that had swept over Las Vegas. She wasn't a fan of cool weather; she preferred scorching summer days to chilly autumn ones. Burying her head under her pillow, she prayed that she would be able to fall asleep quickly, but she knew the three cups of coffee she had the previous night at work would most likely keep her awake for at least another hour.

After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, Catherine begrudgingly swung her feet out of bed and stood up, groaning as her knees popped in protest of her swift movement. She padded to her closet and pulled out a flannel shirt that had once belonged to her ex-husband, and she headed downstairs to her kitchen.

Cursing herself for drinking the caffeinated beverage the night before, she poured herself a glass of milk and warmed it in the microwave for a short time. When the timer beeped, she took her glass and made herself comfortable on the living room couch. She quickly downed the warm milk, and before long she was beginning to feel its effects. She pulled a throw off of the back of the couch and draped it over her legs. Within minutes she was sound asleep.

* * *

_8:43 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Room 205_

Fifteen year old Lindsey Willows sat in the back row of her American History class halfheartedly listening to her teacher lecture about the California gold rush. She glanced at Katie Stanley, the unusually quiet girl who sat to her left. Katie appeared to be taking very detailed notes over the teacher's lecture. Rolling her eyes, Lindsey turned to her right and softly tapped her finger on her desk to get her best friend's attention.

Morgan Weston, who had been doodling in the back of her textbook, turned her head and meft Lindsey's gaze. _"Boring",_ Morgan mouthed. Lindsey nodded her head exaggeratedly in response, causing Morgan to giggle.

Their teacher, upon hearing Morgan's giggling, ceased his speech about gold mining. "Do you girls need something?"

Lindsey, ever the charmer, replied, "No thank you Mr. Haney. We'll let you know if we do." Morgan covered her mouth with her hand to keep herself from laughing out loud.

Rather than harping on the girl's lack of attention, he returned to his lecture. Lindsey pulled out a sheet of paper and began to take notes, but not before she winked at Morgan.

* * *

_8:46 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy Parking Lot_

"Don't tell me you're losing your nerve!" Brian Chenoweth growled at the boy in his car with him.

Tyson Bauer cracked his knuckles, partly out of habit and partly due to nervousness. "No dude. I'm gonna do this."

Opening up the car door and getting out, Brian testily replied, "Good. We've been planning this too long for you to back out now."

Silently trying to quell his churning stomach, Tyson got out of the car and followed Brian to the rear of the Buick, where the trunk now stood open. Brian reached in and pulled out a handgun, handing it to Tyson. Tyson nervously looked at it before shoved it in the front pocket of his sweatshirt. He then pocketed a handful of extra bullets. Brian, who had a revolver hidden underneath his jacket, slammed the lid of the trunk. "Let's do this," he said icily, as the pair made their way to the high school.

* * *

_8:49 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Main Office_

Principal Roger Hicks sighed as he saw two more stragglers making their way down the main hallway. Although Mr. Hicks enjoyed his job, he dreaded dealing with at least twenty tardy students every day. Walking past the secretary's desk, he opened the offices doors. In a mock cheerful voice, he called out, "Mr. Bauer, Mr. Chenoweth! I'd like to have a word with you please!" He watched as the pair exchanged a glance, but thought nothing of it. He held the door open for the boys as he ushered them into the office. "Do you two realize school starts at 8:00 a.m.?" When he received no response, he headed toward his private office. "Mr. Chenoweth, I'll deal with you first."

Brian followed Mr. Hicks into his office, casting a glance over his shoulder at Tyson. The heavy oak door to the principal's office was shut, and the gray-haired secretary, Joann, instructed Tyson to have a seat in a chair outside of the office. Nervously, he did as he was told. He sat in silence, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair as he listened to Joann's perfectly manicured fingernails click on the keys of her computer keyboard. He shifted in his seat, feeling the weight of the gun pressing into his abdomen.

Then, from behind the closed door, a shot rang out.

Joann stood up and screamed, turning to press the panic button that was hidden rather conspicuously on the wall behind her desk. But before she could reach it, Tyson sprinted to her and hit her in the back of the head with the butt of his handgun, knocking her out. The door to the principal's office flew open and Brian ran out, leaving the door open so Tyson could see Mr. Hicks slouched over his desk, along with a spray of blood on the cream curtains behind him. Brian grabbed Tyson by the arm and led him out into the hallway. Noticing that the hallway was still empty, Brian turned to his partner and gruffly said, "No turning back now." He then raced down the hall and turned left into another hallway leading to classrooms. Tyson faltered for a moment before following Brian, turning down an opposite hallway.

* * *

_8:49 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Room 205_

When the shot resounded throughout the school, the students in Mr. Haney's class were instantly alert. Mr. Haney dropped his chalk on the tile floor, which shattered on impact. He looked at the faces of his students; he saw a mixture of fear and confusion in the eyes of all nineteen of his American History students. Quickly regaining his senses, he recalled what he had been trained to do in the event that something should ever happen at Butterfield. He ran to the door of the classroom, locking it. "Everyone get against this wall!" he yelled. The students obeyed without questioning him, and he hurriedly shut off the classroom lights.

He sat down along the wall against the hallway with his students, remembering that if anyone looked in the classroom it would appear to be empty. "Who has a cell phone?" he asked. The hands of all nineteen students shot up in unison. "Lindsey, call 911! Tell them there's a shooter in the building!"

* * *

_Well, there's chapter one! I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Reviews are greatly appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Summary: **__A school shooting tests the CSIs…especially Catherine._

_**Author's Note: **__Pretty much AU…but hey, it's my story, right? All of the original cast is present…no one is dead; no one is in Costa Rica. Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter; I greatly appreciate it._

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing. All characters belong to their respective owners._

_**Spoilers: **__None that I know of._

_**Reviews are greatly appreciated.**_

* * *

_8:51 a.m._

_Las Vegas Police Department_

The dispatcher repeated the announcement as all available policemen listened intently to their scanners. "10-72 at Butterfield Academy, 1930 West Arbor Avenue. Possible multiple shooters, possible casualties. All units respond."

Captain Jim Brass tossed his Styrofoam coffee in the trashcan beside his desk and picked up his scanner, replying to the call. "This is Brass. I'm heading to the scene. Requesting four units, possible backup." He and a younger cop ran out to their awaiting police cruiser, jumped in, and turned their sirens on. The drove as quickly as possible to the scene, unsure of what they would find when they arrived at Butterfield.

* * *

_8:53 a.m._

_Las Vegas Crime Lab_

"That was Brass," Grissom informed Warrick, Nick and Sara. "There was a shooting at Butterfield Academy." At this, a collective 'gasp' sounded in the break room. "I'm calling in Greg and Catherine because I'm sure we'll need their help on this."

Sara's brow furrowed. "Gris, isn't Butterfield Academy where Lindsey goes to school?" Everyone in the room turned to look at Sara.

Grissom raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose in thought. "Yeah, it is." _Damn. _"Warrick, go pick up Catherine. Call her first, but don't tell her what's going on until you get there. I'll call Greg; he can meet us at the scene."

* * *

_8:55 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Library_

Brian knocked over a cart filled with books, laughing as a group of four cheerleaders cowered in fear in front of him. He raised his gun to the head of a pretty blonde whose face was streaked with her black mascara. "Tell me babe, do you know my name?"

The blonde looked up at him quizzically. "What?"

Brian gritted his teeth. "I said, DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?"

The girl's shoulders began shaking as she sobbed, her friends huddling closer together beside her. "No, I don't," her voice cracked, "I'm sorry."

Nodding his head, Brian simply said, "No one does." Then he pulled the trigger.

* * *

_8:56 a.m._

_Willows Residence_

Catherine was roused prematurely from her slumber by the ringing of her cell phone. She heard it after the third ring, but she didn't move to answer it. After two more rings, whoever was calling her hung up. She smiled, relieved that she hadn't had to answer the phone, and buried herself deeper in the cushions of her couch.

* * *

_8:57 a.m._

_Warrick's Denali_

'_Damn it Catherine!' _Warrick thought as he sped through the remaining miles leading to his friend's house, the speedometer hovering between 65 and 70 miles per hour. He tried calling her once again, but she still didn't answer. In frustration, he threw his phone in the passenger seat and banged his hands on the steering wheel. _'Of all times for her not to answer the phone…' _He finally turned onto Catherine's street and hastily pulled into her driveway. He jumped out of his vehicle and ran up the porch steps leading to her door. He rang the doorbell, and then knocked loudly.

* * *

_8:57 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Front Lawn_

Brass and a fleet of policemen sat outside the school. Several more calls had been received by the dispatcher, informing them that there were at least two gunmen and they were both still inside. Fearing a hostage situation, the officers waited anxiously for a hostage negotiator to arrive.

Brass turned his head as he saw two white Denali's pull up behind the blockade of police cruisers. He radioed to Grissom that they CSI's were to stay in their vehicles until the scene was secured and the gunmen were captured…or killed.

A rookie cop stood next to Brass, jumping each time a gunshot was heard coming from the school.

* * *

_8:57 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Room 205_

Morgan screamed in horror as the handle to the classroom door was shot off. Tyson Bauer walked into the classroom wielding a handgun. Morgan and Lindsey wrapped their arms around each other, rocking back in forth out of fear. Tyson walked to the middle of the classroom where he could face all of the students and the teacher. "Mr. Haney, do you remember me?"

Mr. Haney cleared his throat nervously. He wasn't prepared to chat with a possible murderer. "Of course I do. I had you the second semester of last year in my European history class."

Tyson chuckled. "Yeah, you did. Do you remember what grade you gave me?"

"I…I can't say that I do. You were a good student...I can't recall the exact grade."

"Yeah, I was a good student. But you failed me. You accused me of plagiarizing," Tyson said bitterly, "because I turned in the same term paper as that basketball player, Jake Finch."

Mr. Haney pushed his glasses up farther on his nose, shifting in his spot on the floor. Tyson continued, "I didn't steal his fucking paper. He stole mine. But you believed the star jock over me," Tyson motioned at his worn clothing, "a kid from the wrong side of town."

Stammering, Mr. Haney finally choked out, "I'm very, very sorry Tyson. I should have listened to you."

Tyson raised the gun and pointed it at his former teacher. Just before pulling the trigger, he said, "It's too late to apologize now."

_

* * *

_

8:59 a.m.

_Willows Residence_

Catherine may have been able to ignore her ringing cell phone, but there was no way she could ignore a 180-pound black man who was pounding on her front door calling her name. Not caring about her appearance, she begrudgingly opened the door and glared at her coworker. "This had better be good."

"Cath, we need you. There's a case…everyone's been called in." Warrick silently reminded himself not to mention what the case was just yet. "Get dressed. Hurry."

She wasn't used to Warrick telling her what to do because he was generally laid back. Noting the tension in his voice, she decided to do as he asked. "Give me five minutes." Warrick followed her into the house but stood just inside the door. He watched as his red-headed counterpart bounded up the stairs.

True to her word, Catherine reappeared five minutes later dressed in a pair of dark jeans, heeled boots, and a dark blue sweater. She pulled a leather blazer from the coat rack and slipped it on. Warrick, who was already holding Catherine's kit, said, "I'll drive. Let's go." He opened the door and walked swiftly to his Denali, putting her kit in the back with his before climbing into the driver's seat. Catherine locked her front door behind her, and then followed Warrick to the vehicle. She fastened her seatbelt before turning to Warrick. "Care to tell me what's going on?"

Warrick backed carefully out of the driveway before speeding in the direction of the school. "There was a school shooting."

Catherine winced at this news. "Which one?" When Warrick didn't answer right away, she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "'Rick?"

Racing through a yellow light, he softly replied, "Butterfield Academy. Lindsey's school."

* * *

_Well, there's chapter two! I hope you enjoy it. Remember, reviews are always nice to receive._

_--Kayla_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Summary: **__A school shooting tests the CSIs…especially Catherine._

_**Author's Note: **__Pretty much AU…but hey, it's my story, right? All of the original cast is present…no one is dead; no one is in Costa Rica._

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing. All characters belong to their respective owners._

_**Spoilers: **__None that I know of._

_**Reviews are greatly appreciated.**_

* * *

_9:00 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Hallway_

Brian walked out of the restroom, reloading his gun with a new cartridge. He laughed hoarsely when glanced behind him and realized his hiking boots were leaving bloody footprints behind him. Making his way down the hall, he paused when he heard Tyson fire a succession of shots somewhere in the school. Brian grinned and began jogging toward the gym, opening fire as soon as he burst through the heavy wooden doors.

* * *

_9:00 a.m._

_Warrick's Denali_

"Cath…." Warrick eyed the woman sitting next to him. "Cath, say something."

When Catherine didn't reply, Warrick gripped the steering wheel harder. "Grissom said I should tell you on the way so you wouldn't be stunned when we get to Butterfield." He glanced at her again, but she still didn't respond to what he was saying. Instead, she continued staring through the windshield. Undeterred, he took a different approach. "Look Cath, I'm sure Lindsey's fine. There are probably 300 kids at that school…"

"Warrick?" Catherine spoke, cutting off his sentence.

He looked at her once again, relieved that she was finally speaking. "Yeah?"

"Shut the hell up."

* * *

_9:04 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Front Lawn_

Greg pulled up to the curb and jumped out of his vehicle, running to meet his colleagues at their designated spot across the street from the school. "Hey guys…so, school shooting, huh?"

Sara glanced at her spiky-haired counterpart and nodded her head and answered, "Yeah, cops aren't even inside the building yet. They're trying to figure out where the shooters are."

"Um," Greg cocked his head, "Then why are we here already? We can't go inside until the cops have done their thing…"

"Because Greg," Grissom replied in an annoyed tone, "as soon as the situation has been taken care of, it's going to be our job to get in there and figure out what happened."

Greg pressed his lips together and nodded his head, not wanting to further upset his supervisor. Just then, Warrick's SUV pulled up behind the group of CSIs. Warrick climbed out of the driver's door, while Nick jogged over to open the passenger door for Catherine. When she got out, the group turned toward her, but turned away when Grissom cleared his throat. Catherine and Warrick unloaded their kits from the back of the vehicle, and then walked over to where their coworkers were standing.

The group was still standing in a circle, each stealing glances at each other, when Captain Brass signaled for Grissom to come over to his squad car. "Okay Gil, we've got a live feed from all the cameras in the school…all the hallways, the main office, the gym, cafeteria…" His voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat. He gestured to a computer system set up on the trunk of the car. "We can see everything."

Gil's eyebrows furrowed. "And?"

Jim stared down at his shoes before raising his eyes to meet Gil's piercing blue ones. "Don't know where the principal is because his office isn't monitored, but the secretary's on the floor. Dead or hurt….I'm not sure." He switched to a different view on the monitor so all four major hallways were showing on a split screen. "The main hallways are clear right now." As soon as the words left his mouth, one of the gunmen came out of a classroom and ran down one of the hallways. "Damn it!"

Gil closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. After letting it out slowly, he asked, "Can you cut to the gym now?"

Brass obliged his friend, but soon wished he hadn't. The surveillance being shown of the gymnasium slowed the pair to see six bodies lying on the ground, unmoving. Jim swallowed hard before pulling out his radio. "Location of shooters unknown. Multiple casualties. SWAT team move in **now**."

* * *

_9:05 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Front Lawn_

Catherine had, unknowingly, moved closer to Warrick as he put his arm around her shoulder's protectively. Her coworkers knew she was worried about Lindsay, but was going to maintain control of her emotions.

As she brushed a stray hair out of her face, Catherine thought to herself, "If Lindsey was dead, I'd sense it….right?"

* * *

_9:06 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Rear Entrance_

Sergeant Craig Rodriguez glanced over his shoulder, signaling for the four policemen behind him to follow him into the building. The entered the building and instantly scanned the hallway, guns drawn. Just then, Rodriguez' earpiece alerted him that the SWAT team that had entered through the front of the building had taken down one gunman as he was exciting a classroom.

Seconds later, Rodriguez and his men heard a gunshot sound from the second floor of the building. They cautiously but quickly proceeded up the stairs. They were instantly met with the sight of the other shooter lying on the tile floor in a spreading pool of blood, dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

* * *

_9:09 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Front Lawn_

News crews were already arriving at the school, along with a bevy of frantic parents wondering if their children were safe. Police officers, however, were struggling to maintain order and keep civilians away from the waiting ambulances. Their task was being made increasingly more difficult as students flooded out of the building, searching for their friends and families.

The CSIs stood in a group, watching, as a pair of EMTs carried out the first stretcher amid a crowd of teenagers. Brass followed the stretcher and ran toward the CSIs. "Guys, we need your help. The school's clear, but there's at least twenty kids dead in there, not to mention six or seven wounded that we know of already."

Grissom took over for Brass. "Nick, get the names and contact information from the injured students who are able to speak, but don't interfere with their treatment."

Nick nodded. "You've got it Gris." He then took off after the stretcher that was being loaded into an ambulance, pad of paper and pencil in hand.

Gil looked at Sara and Greg. "You two…go with Brass into the school." Greg and Sara looked at each other, and then followed the captain through the front doors of the building.

After assigning most of his team their roles, Grissom looked at Catherine and Warrick. "Warrick, stay with Catherine until Lindsay comes out." He then turned and walked into the building, following Sara and Greg.

Warrick pulled the redhead closer to his body, feeling her shiver. He silently prayed that Lindsay would exit the building soon.

* * *

_9:12 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Room 205_

When Lindsey Willows awoke, she could smell iron in the air; when she listened, she heard running in the hallway…lots and lots of running. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking. She raised her hand to her hairline, where she felt a burning sensation. Once she pulled her hand away, she realized it was red and sticky. There was a burning sensation in her lower leg as well, but it hurt far worse than her head injury.

Moaning, Lindsey turned her head: She was face to face with Morgan Weston. But unlike Lindsey, Morgan's eyes were unblinking; they remained open and her body stayed still.

"Morgan?" Lindsey whispered. She repeated the name again, louder. "Morgan?"

Then, Lindsey screamed.

* * *

_I hope you've enjoyed chapter three! Remember, reviews are greatly appreciated._

_--Kayla_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: **__I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long…I wasn't sure where I wanted this chapter to go. If anyone is still reading, I made this chapter longer than the others and it's full of drama…so hopefully the wait was worth it._

_Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! I truly appreciate it. The more reviews I get, the faster I will update (hint hint)._

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing. All characters belong to their creators and rightful owners._

* * *

_9:12 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Main Hallway_

Sara's head jerked up when the sound of a girl's scream pierced her ears. Her eyes met Grissom's. "Where the hell did that come from?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Captain Brass and Sergeant Rodriguez raced past her, following the direction of the scream. Seconds later, two EMTs followed the detectives into a room.

"Stay out of the EMTs' way," Grissom ordered. Greg and Sara nodded solemnly, watching as Jim jogged toward them.

"We thought the building was clear…that everyone was out. Guess we missed one."

Grissom looked at the detective and pursed his lips. "Apparently."

The CSIs and Jim watched as the stretcher was wheeled past them. Suddenly, Grissom's jaw dropped in recognition. "Oh my God…that's Lindsey!"

* * *

_9:14 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Front Lawn_

Gil ran behind the stretcher carrying his best friend's daughter, struggling to keep up with the EMTs. He stopped momentarily and scanned the crowd of people surrounding the school, searching for Catherine and Warrick. He spotted them standing near the flagpole where they had been earlier. "Catherine! CATHERINE!"

The red-head's eyes locked with Grissom's as she raced toward him, Warrick following closely behind. "Gil?!"

"Cath," Gil, gasping for breath, gestured toward the ambulance the stretcher was being loaded into, "Lindsey!"

Catherine's eyes grew wide as she realized what he was saying. "Oh, God Gil…is she?"

"Just go Cath! Go!"

Without hesitation, Catherine climbed into the back of the ambulance. One of the EMTs looked at her sternly and said, "M'am, we don't have room…"

"I'm her _mother_!"

The two EMTs looked at each other. "Fine. Get in. Hurry!" Catherine quickly climbed in to back of the ambulance and moved toward her daughter.

"Wait!" Warrick yelled. "What hospital?"

"Desert Palm." As soon as his question was answered, the ambulance doors slammed shut and the siren was turned on.

As the two men stood watching the ambulance speed away, Gil looked at Warrick. "I have to stay here and process the scene. Would you…"

"Yeah Griss. I'll be there for Cath." With that, the CSI took off toward his Denali, intent on following the ambulance to the hospital.

After seeing Warrick pull away from the curb, Grissom slowly turned and went back into the school where the horrors of the day awaited him.

* * *

_9:17 a.m._

_Ambulance_

_En-Route to Desert Palm_

"You're gonna be fine Lindsey! You'll be fine!" Catherine reassured her daughter, and herself, as she gripped the teenager's hand tightly.

"It hurts really bad mom!" Lindsey screamed in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Catherine looked up at the EMTs. "Isn't there anything you can give her?"

"M'am, we've given her a dose of morphine already. It's not safe to give her anything else until she's been seen by a doctor."

"Mom!" Lindsey screamed again.

"Baby, I'm here, I'm right here!" Catherine tightened her hold on her daughter's hand. "How much farther to the hospital?"

The same EMT replied, "ETA is three minutes. BP's holding steady at 125/84. Respirations?"

The second responded, "20, temp is 97.5, pulse is climbing…up to 130." He looked at Lindsey and said, "Honey, it won't be much longer until we get to the hospital."

Lindsey's face contorted in pain. "My leg...God, mom! It hurts!"

Catherine felt her own tears begin to flow freely. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was to see her daughter in pain. "I'm so sorry Linds, but we're almost there."

* * *

_9:18 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Main Hallway_

Tony Vartann, flanked by Sergeant Rodriguez and another officer, approached the three CSIs huddled together, discussing where to begin processing. "Grissom, Sara, Greg." The CSIs nodded in response. "We backtracked on the live feed we had from the camera. Looks like the shooters entered through the main doors of the building and went to the office first. Damn kids shot the principal and knocked out the secretary first."

Sara interrupted, "How is the principal?"

"Dead."

"Oh…"Sara let out a slow breath and shook her head.

"How about the secretary?" Greg questioned.

"Has a nasty bump on her head, most likely a concussion. But she was alert enough to run out of the building when most of the students did."

Grissom closed his eyes, opening them as he asked, "How many are dead or injured?"

Rodriguez answered, "We've checked all the classrooms, gym, locker rooms, cafeteria…even the kitchen and janitor's closets. There are nine injured and fifteen dead…seventeen if you count the shooters."

"We count the shooters," Gil replied sternly.

The sergeant glanced at Detective Vartann before speaking again. "Okay. Then there are seventeen dead."

Sara bit her lip in thought. "You know, most school shootings result in far more injuries than actual deaths. Those boys knew how to handle guns."

Grissom nodded as he surveyed the carnage surrounding him. "Unfortunately, they certainly did."

* * *

_9:21 a.m._

_Desert Palm Hospital_

_Emergency Room_

"15 year old female, GSW to the lower left leg, laceration on her forehead," one of the EMTs spouted off as the gurney carrying Lindsey rolled into the ER from the ambulance bay, Catherine running alongside the cart.

"I've got her!" A forty-something balding man in seafoam colored scrubs jogged over to meet the gurney. Grabbing the chart that he was handed, he smiled at the girl. "Hey Lindsey, I'm Dr. Greene. Are you the mother?" he asked, glancing up at Catherine.

Startled, she replied, "Uh…yeah! Yes."

Dr. Greene nodded, peering over the top rim of his eyeglasses. "Abby, trauma 4!" he called to a petite nurse, who quickly joined the doctor as he pushed the gurney down the hallway.

"Hi Lindsey, I'm Abby. We're going to take good care of you." the nurse said. She then turned toward Catherine. "We _will_ take good care of her."

Catherine nodded her response, choking back tears.

The doctor quickly pulled on a yellow surgical gown and gloves. "Alright Lindsey, I'm just going to look at your leg and see what we're dealing with, okay?" Lindsey nodded as she held her hand out for Catherine to grab hold of again. Dr. Greene looked at Lindsey's leg for a few seconds before say, "Get me 10 of morphine". Moments later, Abby returned with a syringe of clear liquid and handed it to the doctor, who injected it into Lindsey's forearm. "Abby, start an IV." He ran over to the double doors of the trauma room and called out, "Carol, I need another nurse here!"

A tall, curly-haired woman in peach scrubs burst through the doors. "What do you need Mark?"

"Hel p hold her legs down so I can examine her. Abby's starting an IV."

The new nurse repeated the doctor's actions and dressed in a yellow gown and sterile gloves before bracing herself to hold down Lindsey's flailing lower limbs.

Catherine continued to hold her daughter's hand as she watched the nurse attempt to insert an IV catheter into Lindsey's other arm.

"Mom! It still hurts!"

"I know baby, I know. The doctor and the nurses are trying to help you though." "_Remain calm Catherine"_, she told herself. "_If you calm down, so will Lindsey."_

"Got it!" Abby announced her successful IV insertion.

"Start a bag of normal saline at 60 cc's, push morphine at 10 cc's," the doctor ordered.

After examining his patient's leg, Dr. Greene turned to the nurse who had Lindsey's legs pinned to the gurney. "Call Radiology. Tell them we need a portable x-ray down here stat." When Carol raced to the wall and grabbed the telephone to alert the radiology department of their needs, Dr. Greene turned back to Lindsey. "Okay sweetie, you definitely have a bullet in your leg."

"Oh God," Lindsey moaned.

The doctor continued, "We're gonna have to take a few pictures of your leg to see where exactly the bullet is, and then you'll have to go up to surgery to have it removed."

"Wait," Catherine interrupted, "Surgery? You can't take it out down here?"

"In this case, taking the bullet out down here would be far too risky. The bullet is near her femoral artery, which is –"

Catherine cut him off. "I know what that is. Are there any forms I need to sign?"

Dr. Greene nodded. "There are, but we'll have you sign the papers while Lindsey's getting her x-rays taken."

"Okay." Catherine turned to face her daughter, who was still gripping her hand. "Lindsey, it's going to be okay."

"Mom, I'm scared!" Lindsey cried, although the morphine she had been given was contributing to the lessening of her pain.

"It's okay to be scared sweetheart…but the doctors are going to get that bullet out of your leg."

Carole hung up the phone and walked back over to the small group. "A rad-tech will be down in five to ten minutes." She smiled at Lindsey. "If you don't need me Mark, I'm going to go next door and see if Dr. Weaver needs any help."

"Sure Carol, go ahead."

Gently rubbing the pad of her thumb against her daughter's hand, Catherine said, "Everything's going to be fine baby." When Lindsey didn't respond, Catherine prodded her. "Linds? Linds?" Just then, an alarm began to sound in the room.

"BP's dropping…80/52….72/45! She's crashing!" Abby announced.

"Damn it!" Dr. Greene swore. "Carol, get back in here!" he yelled. The nurse turned around and, upon seeing the commotion, ran back into the trauma room.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Don't know. Get the crash cart," he ordered. Abby took hold of Catherine's arm and pulled her away from Lindsey's side.

"M'am it's best if you wait outside."

"I'm _not _leaving her!"

Unwilling to argue with a worried mother, Abby said, "Stay over here so we can work."

Carol quickly cut away the front of Lindsey's sweater and snipped through the elastic front of her bra.

"Charge paddles to 80!" the doctor ordered. "Clear!"

As the paddles caused Lindsey's body to jump, Catherine brought her hands up to cover her mouth as she sobbed in horror.

* * *

_9:33 a.m._

_Warrick's Denali_

_Desert Palm parking lot_

"Hey Griss, it's me."

"Warrick, how's Lindsey?" the voice on the other end of the telephone asked.

"I just pulled into the parking lot…there was a boat-load of traffic on the highway. I was just lettin' you know that I'm here and I'll call as soon as I know something."

"Thanks Warrick. Take care of Catherine and tell her I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I will Griss. But don't worry…Lindsey just got shot in the leg. That's probably not too serious, right?"

"Just call me back." Gil ended the conversation, silently praying that the dread he was feeling was merely a case of indigestion rather than a sense foreboding.

* * *

_Well, there's chapter four! I hope it was worth the wait._

_And in case you're wondering, Dr. Greene, Abby, and Carol are indeed characters from 'ER'. I loved that show…sniff sniff. Anyhoo, this isn't turning into a crossover; I just thought that since I'm writing a hospital scene anyway, I might as well work in some of my favorite characters from my other favorite show :)_

_Remember…reviews = love._

_-Kayla_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: **__Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! Your reviews mean a lot to me. I've gone back through my previous chapters and have attempted to fix any typos or inconsistencies i.e. Lindsay/Lindsey, in order to make the story better for you._

_**A/N 2: **__I've tried to stay true to the facts and histories of each character, but for the purposes of this story, Catherine doesn't have a sister (I tend to forget about 'Nancy' anyway). Also, this story begins in the fall of 2007 (which would be the beginning of season eight), meaning that Sam Braun has been dead for over a year already. Oh, and Warrick and Tina are divorced._

_**Disclaimer: **__The characters you recognize belong to their respective owners. The characters you don't recognize belong to me. _

* * *

_9:34 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Main Hallway_

"That was Warrick," Grissom announced to Greg and Sara. "He just got to the hospital so he hasn't been able to check on Lindsey and Catherine yet, but he'll call back when he knows something."

"I hope that kid's okay," Greg said softly.

Grissom replied, "She will be. She's tough, just like her mom."

Sara nodded her agreement before quickly changing the subject. "So I'm thinking the shooters probably came in through the front doors…you know, stay inconspicuous?"

Just then, Captain Brass walked up behind her. "Sara's right. Surveillance shows the two shooters came in through the front doors after school had already started. Went into the office and came running out a few minutes later."

Greg spoke up. "So the principal was the first one shot."

"Yep," Jim affirmed.

Grissom pursed his lips in thought before speaking. "Sara, you take the main office." He then gesticulated down the hallway to a set of bloody footprints on the floor that lead out of a restroom and down another hallway. "Greg, follow the prints…see what the source is and where they lead. I'll start in the classroom nearest the office." Just then, Gil's cell phone rang.

"Grissom."

"_Grissom, it's Ecklie."_

Gil inadvertently rolled his eyes. "What do you want Conrad?"

"_I'm just letting you know that day shift is swamped with other cases already. Graveyard's got this case…so make sure none of your team screws anything up."_

"Thanks Conrad. We'll make sure to do our jobs correctly," Grissom replied moodily.

"_Work on getting id's on the shooters first. We'll worry about the rest of the victims once they've been brought in to the morgue."_

"Alright. I've got it."

"_Oh, and Grissom? No one but the sheriff talks to the press. No one."_

"Thanks Conrad. I've got to go now." He quickly ended the phone call before the other man could respond. "Okay. Day shift is swamped with cases that they're still working on, so this is all us. Go ahead and get started. I'm going to meet Dave and work on identifying the shooters."

"You've got it boss," Greg said before quickly picking up his kit and heading toward the restroom.

Sara picked up her kit as well and wordlessly walked to the main office, mentally preparing herself for whatever she might face.

* * *

_9:38 a.m._

_Desert Palm Hospital_

_Trauma Room 4_

"Where the Hell is radiology?!" Dr. Greene shouted. Just then, a petite red-head came through the doors of the trauma room, pulling a large machine behind her.

"I'm right here!" the woman announced. "What on earth happened here?"

Dr. Greene dragged the sleeve of his yellow gown across his forehead, mopping his sweaty brow. "The girl crashed a few minutes ago. She's stabilized for now." He motioned to Catherine, who was standing next to Lindsey, holding her hand and sobbing. "The mother's hysterical."

"Well, if I'm going to x-ray her, I'll need the room to clear out."

Taking the hint, Abby gently placed her hand on Catherine's heaving shoulder. "M'am, we need to step out of the room so we can scan her and see what's going on."

Catherine looked up tearfully and shook her head. "I'm not leaving her."

Abby sighed before saying, "We need to let the tech do her job so we know how to make Lindsey better."

At the mention of Lindsey's name, Catherine bent down and kissed her daughters forehead before slowly turning and following Abby out of the room. Once Catherine and the nurse were gone, the radiology tech turned to Dr. Greene. "Let's get to scanning!"

* * *

_9:42 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Front Lawn_

"_Why do I have to be the people person on the team?" _Nick thought to himself as he quickly scribbled down an address that an injured student had rattled off to him before being whisked away in an ambulance. He sighed heavily before flipping the page in his notepad to a clean sheet of paper, walking toward a teenage girl who was sitting on the curb cradling her hand in an icepack. He crouched down when he approached her. "Hey there, I'm Nick. I'm a CSI," he showed her his id badge before asking, "Is it okay if we talk for a minute?"

The girl nodded her head and reached up with her uninjured hand to push her glasses up farther on the bridge of her nose. "What's your name?" Nick asked.

"Mary Katherine Stanley…Katie," she replied softly.

Nick smiled. "Okay Katie. Is there someone you need to call? So they know you're alright?"

Katie shook her head. "No, it's okay. She knows."

"Your mom?"

"My sister," Katie corrected.

"Oh, okay." Nick clicked his pen, preparing to write. "Well can you tell me what happened to your hand?"

Katie's face reddened. "I…I fell when I was running to get out of the building. Landed on it wrong, I guess."

Nick nodded his head and smiled at the girl again. "Alright Katie. Are you sure you don't need me to call your sister?"

Again, Katie shook her head. "No, she's right over there," she said, pointing in the direction of the ever-growing crowd.

"Where?"

"In the black skirt and purple pea coat…with the camera crew."

Nick finally spotted Katie's sister. "Alright Katie, I'm gonna go talk to your sister, okay?"

Katie smiled slightly before looking back down at her injured hand.

* * *

_9:44 a.m._

_Desert Palm Hospital_

_Emergency_

"Look buddy, I can't tell you anything unless you're a family member. That's the way it is."

Warrick gritted his teeth as he reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out his CSI identification. "I'm with the crime lab," he said to the portly man behind the emergency room desk.

At this, the man rolled his eyes. "Fine. Who'd you say you're looking for?"

"Lindsey Willows. She's fifteen, she was brought here from Butterf—"

"Everyone here was brought here from Butterfield." He then waved his hand in the direction of an elderly woman. "Except for that old broad. She's from some nursing home I think."

Warrick sighed in exasperation. "So can you tell me where Lindsey is?"

The man picked up a chart and quickly flipped through a few pages. "Trauma four. Down that hallway."

"Thank you," Warrick replied, receiving only a wave in response.

* * *

_9:45 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Front Lawn_

"Thanks Roger. I'm on location at Butterfield Academy, a prestigious Las Vegas high school. Normally Butterfield is a quiet, serene school, the place where some of the city's brightest teenagers spend their formative years. But as you can see from the chaos surrounding me, today Butterfield Academy is anything but serene. Approximately one hour ago, an unknown assailant entered the school and opened fire on the unsuspecting students and faculty. It is not yet known how many students have been killed or are injured, nor is it known how many gunmen there were. Police have not yet released a statement regarding the incident, but one is expected later today. Stay tuned for updates as this story develops. Back to you in the studio, Roger."

Meg Stanley quickly flicked the button on her microphone off and turned away from the camera crew, just in time to come face to face with an angry Texan. "Who the hell are you?"

Nick angrily answered, "CSI Stokes. You Katie Stanley's sister?"

Flashing a smile, Meg flipped her shiny, long black hair over her shoulder and held out a perfectly manicured hand. "Why yes I am. Meg Stanley, reporter for Channel 13 Eyewitness News."

Ignoring her outstretched hand, Nick continued. "Why on earth are you over here with your camera and fancy lighting when your sister is sitting over there on the ground?"

Meg's eyes darkened and she drew back her hand. "Look, Mister…?"

"Stokes."

"Mr. Stokes. As soon as I heard about the shooting I called Katie to make sure she was okay. She's fine. I'm just doing my job now."

In a harsh tone, Nick replied, "Your _sister_ should come before your job right now!"

Folding her arms over her chest defensively, Meg replied, "Hey, Katie is fine. If she wasn't I'd be over there with her. But it's my job to report the news, and lots of families don't know if their kids are alive or dead or hurt…they may not even know what's going on. So it's my job to keep them informed." She turned away from Nick and began walking toward the news van. "If that's all Mr. Stokes, I believe we both have jobs to do."

Shaking his head in disgust, Nick called out to her, "Your sister just lived through a school shooting. If you think she's fine, you're an even bigger idiot than you seem to be on the news." With that, he turned and walked away in the direction of a group of policemen, leaving Meg in shock.

* * *

_9:46 a.m._

_Desert Palm Hospital_

_Trauma Room 4_

"Well, Dr. Greene, I think we have a little problem."

The doctor glanced at the frizzy-haired radiology tech. "What's wrong?"

The tech pointed to a spot on the x-ray they were viewing. "Well, there's this little girl's heart…"

Dr. Greene pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and leaned toward the x-ray. "Obviously. But what's wrong?"

"This right here." The woman magnified a section of Lindsey's heart. "It looks like there is a bone fragment lodged in her mitral valve."

"Damn."

Carol, who had been hovering near the doors of the room, stepped closer to view the screen as well. "When the bullet entered her leg, must have shattered her tibia…"

"And a bone fragment entered her bloodstream and ended up in her heart," Dr. Greene concluded.

The tech switched off her machine. "I'll hurry and get these printed out and get them back to you."

"Don't bother," Dr. Greene said, "Just have them sent to surgery. That's where this poor girl is headed."

* * *

_Please don't get too mad at me for not posting sooner…I'm sorry. I'm just bad at updating. But the more reviews I get, the more likely I am to feel the urge to write…and I'm going to try to update faster. I'm aiming for one new chapter a week._

_Thanks for reading!!!_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: **__Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! Your reviews mean a lot to me. Oh, forget what I said in the author's note for the previous chapter about Catherine not having a sister. I've decided I might have to throw Nancy into the story just for the heck of it. _

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing. The characters you recognize belong to their rightful owners; the characters you don't recognize belong to me._

* * *

_9:51 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Main Office_

Sara reached into her kit and withdrew a swab. She gingerly dipped it into the puddle of blood behind the secretary's desk before capping it and placing it in an evidence bag. She then picked up her camera and began snapping photos of the scene. There was a fair-sized puddle of blood near the desk that was attributed to the secretary's head wound. After taking what she deemed enough photographs, Sara walked over to the closed door that lead into the principal's office. Drawing in a deep breath, she swung the door open.

During her years as a CSI, Sara had seen more than her share of shocking scenes, but nothing could prepare her for sight of Principal Hicks slumped forward in his desk chair, a great portion of his brain and skull on the curtains behind him.

* * *

_9:51 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Hallway_

Greg walked slowly, dropping a marker beside each new footprint and snapping an occasional photograph to document his findings. He had hit a snag in his tracking when the footprints seemed to diverge, but after following on set he found they doubled back halfway down a hallway and met up with the original trail again. Greg placed marker 37 next to a print before turning down another hallway to follow the prints.

"_38…39…picture….40…41…42…picture" _Greg thought as he continued his trek. Suddenly, he found himself at the entrance of the men's restroom. Greg placed another marker at the entrance, when he noticed a bloody handprint on the doorway to the restroom. He quickly took a few photographs of the print before reaching into his kit and pulling out the equipment necessary to collect a bloody print. Once this task was done, he entered the restroom, immediately feeling the bile rise in his throat at what he saw.

Greg slowly pulled his tape recorder from his pocked and pushed record. "Adolescent male, age approximately sixteen. Lying face down on the floor in front of urinals. Bullet wound to the back of the head."

* * *

_9:51_

_Butterfield Academy_

_Room 115_

David knelt down beside the body, waiting on a temperature to register on his thermometer. At the beep, he announced, "Liver temp is 98.2. This girl's been dead less than an hour, most likely."

Gil nodded in response as David continued. "Cause of death appears to be a close range gunshot wound to the abdomen. There are no other apparent injuries." He then paused and turned away, a shudder running through him.

Noticing this, Gil asked, "What is it David?"

David cleared his throat. "It's just…it's her eyes."

"Her eyes?"

"Yeah. They're open…you can still see the fear in her eyes."

The two men stood in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds until David spoke. "Well, I've got to head to the next classroom. More bodies wait."

As the younger man left the room, Gil looked at the body before he began processing the room. _"David's right…you _**can **_see the fear in her eyes."_

* * *

_9:51 a.m._

_Desert Palm Hospital_

_Trauma Room 4_

"Catherine!" Warrick shouted as soon as he spotted his red-headed coworker.

Turning at the voice, Catherine stood. "Warrick!" she half yelled, half sobbed.

Warrick jogged to her and enveloped her in his arms, inhaling the lavender scent of her shampoo. He felt Catherine's arms tighten around his torso. "How's Lindsey?"

Catherine pulled back from his embrace and ran her hands through her hair. "I don't know…she was fine and talking and then her heart stopped and she crashed…they had to use the paddles and now they're in there working on her…"

"Whoa Cath, slow down." Warrick tried to process what he was being told. "Her heart stopped?"

Catherine stifled a sob before answering, "Yeah…it stopped. But they got it started again. The radiology tech is in there right now trying to figure out what's wrong…" Catherine's voice trailed off, causing Warrick to once again wrap her in his arms. "I can't lose my baby 'Rick."

"Shh, shh," Warrick soothed, "Lindsey's gonna be fine. It'll be okay."

Just then, Dr. Greene came out of the trauma room, a grim expression on his face. "Ms. Willows, I would like to talk to you." He then glanced at Warrick, waiting for the CSI to give them some privacy.

"Cath, I'll go get us some coffee while you and the doctor talk."

"No Warrick!" Catherine gripped his arm. "Don't leave." Turning to Dr. Greene, she said, "Warrick's practically family. Say whatever you need to."

The doctor shifted his gaze from Warrick to Catherine. "Well, when Lindsey was shot, the bullet shattered her tibia and chipped part of her fibula. From what the x-rays show, it seems that a fragment of bone travelled through her bloodstream…to her heart." He paused when Catherine gasped. "The fragment has lodged itself in her mitral valve, which is one of the major valves of the heart."

Warrick interrupted, asking, "Is that why she crashed?"

Dr. Greene nodded. "Yes, it is. Ms. Willows, Lindsey needs open-heart surgery to remove the fragment. Without surgery, the fragment could shift and travel farther into her heart. Since Lindsey is a minor, we need your permission to operate."

Catherine spoke quickly. "I'll sign whatever I need to. Just do the surgery."

Nodding, Dr. Greene turned to Abby. "Could you call surgery and tell them we need an OR stat?"

Abby hurried back into the trauma room and quickly made the phone call to the surgical department. She came back out to join the small group in under a minute. "Dr. Clarke said Lindsey is a priority case, so we can bring her up now. They can get her into the OR in a half hour, maybe forty-five minutes."

"Excellent!" the doctor exclaimed. "Please excuse us Ms. Willows." With that, he and Abby went into the trauma room once again and they, along with Carol, began preparing to take Lindsey upstairs. The radiology tech rolled her scanner out through the doors, past Catherine and Warrick, so she would not be in the way.

"Everything's happening so fast," Catherine murmured.

Warrick wrapped his arm around Catherine's shoulders. "This is a good hospital. It's got some of the best surgeons in the country. Linds is gonna be absolutely fine." Before Catherine could reply, the doctor and nurses rolled Lindsey and her gurney through the double doors and began heading for the elevator.

"You can meet us upstairs, seventh floor," Abby tossed over her shoulder.

Catherine and Warrick glanced at each other before they hurriedly took off for the visitor's elevator.

* * *

_10:08 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Hallway_

"Well David, what can you tell me?" Greg asked the medical examiner.

David looked up from the corpse lying on the floor in front of him. "White adolescent male, approximately eighteen years of age, cause of death is a single gunshot wound to the heart."

Greg scribbled a few notes down on his notepad. "So this was one of the shooters, huh?"

"Yep, sure was," David answered solemnly, eyeing the new pair of Nike high-tops the boy was wearing. "What a waste. I mean, this kid could've had a future…he could've been anything he wanted. Why would he want to do something as awful as this?"

Grissom, who happened to be walking past the scene on his way to a classroom, overheard the conversation. Pausing, he said, "It is not our place to ask why. We ask who, what, when, and where."

Greg watched Grissom walk away. When he was certain he was out of earshot, he said, "Yeah, but it's the 'why' that causes shit like this to happen in the first place."

* * *

_10:15 a.m._

_Desert Palm Hospital_

_Surgical Floor_

"Ms. Willows, I'm Dr. Gordon Clarke. I'll be operating on Lindsey." Catherine looked up and locked eyes with the man who was extending his hand toward her. Wearily, she grasped his hand in her right hand, while her left hand held onto Lindsey.

"Dr. Clarke," Catherine said quietly. She released the doctor's hand and brushed Lindsey's bangs out of her eyes.

The doctor then turned to Warrick, who was standing protectively behind Catherine. "Are you Lindsey's…step-father?"

"I, uh, no…" Warrick stammered, "I'm, uh…"

"This is Warrick Brown. He's a friend," Catherine interjected.

"Ah, I see," the doctor said, smiling. "Well Ms. Willows, Mr. Brown, we need to take Lindsey and prepare her for surgery. I have a fine team of nurses and doctors working with me, and we'll take wonderful care of her." The doctor then motioned for two nearby nurses to come and wheel Lindsey away to the preoperational area.

Catherine quickly bent down and planted a gentle kiss on her daughter's forehead. "I love you so much Linds…Dr. Clarke is going to fix everything, and I'll be right by your side when you wake up. I love you baby."

Lindsey's eyes fluttered open. "Love you too mom," she replied softly. Then, the nurses stepped forward and began pushing Lindsey's gurney away.

Dr. Clarke began following the nurses, quickly turning to say "I'll have a nurse show you to the waiting room."

Catherine nodded and drew in a ragged breath. Warrick instinctively put his arm around her and pulled her close to him. She allowed him to hold her for a few moments, until a portly nurse arrived to show them where the surgical waiting room was. Once in the waiting room, Catherine sat in an overstuffed chair and rested her head in her hands. "I've got to call my mom," she said.

Warrick, who was standing in front of her, asked, "Do you want me to do that?"

Shaking her head, she answered, "No, I'd better do it. I'll have to tell her what happened…" Catherine's voice trailed off, and tears began rolling down her flushed cheeks.

"Cath, it's okay. I have your mom's number in my phone anyway, so I'll call. I'll be right back." He began walking toward the door, but Catherine's voice stopped him.

"'Rick?"

Warrick turned around. "Yeah?"

"She's spending the week out at what was Sam's ranch. She'll be upset when you tell her, and she can't drive all the way back into town by herself like that."

Warrick was silent for a moment. "I'll call Wendy and see if she can bring her here, 'kay?"

Barely smiling, Catherine replied, "Yeah, that would be good." She then watched through the windows of the waiting room as her coworker walked out the door and down the hallway. When he was out of sight, she pulled out her cell phone and hit the first number saved in her speed dial.

* * *

_10:21 a.m._

_Butterfield Academy_

_Hallway_

Just as Gil was shuffling past Greg, who was crouched down examining a body, his cell phone rang. Gil sat his kit down on the floor and fumbled with the pocket of his vest, finally retrieving his phone. "Grissom," he answered.

"_Gil, it's me."_

"Catherine?" He quickly looked at the caller identification on his phone, which confirmed that it was indeed his red-headed coworker. "How's Lindsey doing?"

"_She's…she's in surgery. Her injury was more serious than they thought."_

Gil felt a lump rising in his throat. "What's wrong with her Catherine?" When his question was met with silence on the other end of the line, he repeated, "Catherine?"

"_Gil, I need you here,"_ she sobbed.

Glancing over at Greg, Grissom said, "Catherine, honey, I can't leave the scene. Greg and Sara are the only one's processing the scene with me because Nick is still outside."

"_Gil, I __**need **__you here now. Please," _she begged.

Sighing, Gil knew what he was going to do. "Send Warrick back here. I'll be there in a few minutes." He then ended the call. "Greg, I've got to go to Desert Palm. Let everyone know where I am; Warrick should be here soon to help out." Before the younger man could respond to Grissom, Gil picked up his kit and quickly headed for the front doors of the school.

* * *

_Sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter. Sometimes life gets in the way, you know? Hope this chapter was worth your wait…even though I know it didn't have much action in it. Next chapter will have more. Thanks for reading and reviewing!_

_Kayla_


End file.
